


106. burning down the world

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [36]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena joins the circus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	106. burning down the world

Helena joins the circus for this reason: they let her at the trapeze. It’s that easy. Helena puts chalk on her hands and then she grabs the bar and flies and then – she’s there, she’s there, a bed in the back of the firebreather’s trailer and a wad of greasy bills slapped into her hand and she doesn’t have to be _here_ anymore. She doesn’t have to be here.

Instead she is there. Right now _there_ is back behind the curtain, where Helena is humming to herself in a desperate attempt to drown out the angry hornet-buzz of the crowd outside. They’re not unhappy! The crowd likes the knife thrower, they always do. Circus crowds like it when they think that there’s a chance that you could die. That’s why they like Helena so much. Helena could die at any second.

Which is to say: she never uses a net.

Next to her a voice says: “Are you scared,” and Helena turns her head, and there is Sarah. She doesn’t smell like gasoline yet, but she will soon – when she goes out there and breathes fire, like it’s easy, like everyone’s lungs are filled with burning coals.

Right now she’s just herself, though: dressed all in black, makeup smeared thick around her eyes. She looks like ashes. Helena watched her put on her makeup this morning; she’s been behind the curtain long enough to know a thing or two about how real it is.

“Helena,” Sarah says gently, and Helena blinks. She was staring. She thinks back—

“No,” she says, and goes back to looking out the crack in the tent. Knife skims cheekbone, doesn’t break skin. Crowd gasps, one long breath. Inhale, and then – and then – and then. A few weeks ago they were leaving town, after a show, and Helena sat on the stairs of Sarah’s-trailer-that-is-almost-now- _their_ -trailer and looked up at the sky. Held breath. The whole world static and aching and waiting for lightning, thunder, the crowd to burst into applause.

(“Hey,” Sarah said. “What’re you doin’ out here, meathead? Come inside, you’re gonna catch cold. Then we’re _all_ bloody ruined, yeah?”)

(Helena has never told Sarah, but: she always wanted a sister.)

Sarah shakes her head, scoffs, joins Helena at the gap yawning light into the backstage dark. “Don’t get it,” she mutters. “You’re never scared, are you?”

“No,” Helena says again. She looks at Sarah, furrows her brow. “You aren’t either.”

“No,” Sarah says quietly. “I’m terrified.”

Helena looks away from her and back out to the stage. The crowd is screaming, clapping – it’s the end of an act, knife thrower bowing, all the knives clean and put away. Almost time for the next performer, the next meal they’re feeding to all those people’s hungry eyes.

(Helena likes the circus. It is the most honest and hungry thing that she knows.)

“Every time,” Sarah says, words quiet enough that they’re almost lost to the sound of the crowd. “Scared out of my bloody mind. I could _die_ out there, yeah? One wrong toss of a torch and—”

And.

“You won’t,” Helena says urgently. Sarah doesn’t say anything. Helena wants to put a hand on her shoulder, or tuck her hair behind her ear, or hug her. But if she touches Sarah one of them will burn. So she doesn’t.

(They dressed her in white. They call her an angel, when they put her out there on the wire and hope that she doesn’t fall.

Helena in white, Sarah in black. There’s a story there. There has to be.)

The ringmaster gives one last triumphant yell and the crowd starts clapping. Held breath. They’re waiting for Sarah; of course they are. They want to eat her alive.

“That’s me,” Sarah says, and lets out a shaky breath. She grins at Helena, teeth so white in her mouth.

Helena opens her mouth to say _good luck_ , decides against that, _break a leg_ , but that’s – too close to true. “I,” she says, and then closes her mouth.

“Me too,” Sarah says, and then she goes out into the ring to light herself on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> gosh...but...natalie...who could the knife thrower be
> 
> ANYWAYS thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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